Demons And Fairytales
by veronca
Summary: Trish: Amnesia and foreshadowing between Vergil and Dante. One more chapter to this, but won't be updated for a while. No end pairings on this. M for mature themes.
1. Beatrice

**PROLOGUE:_ A FORMER LOVE STORY: TRISH REBORN_**

When I was born, I thought that I would be one of Mundus's famous devils, powerful, well cared for, catered and loved. I don't know where love came into the equation. Love was the most distant thing that ever ricocheted in the depths of the underground. Only Dante was able to acquire passage by fitting together clues and creating a powerful puzzle that echoed ancient manuscripts of the book of the dead.

It was when I was reborn into a life of privilege that my story begins. When one of the twins, Dante or Virgil said that I looked like a shake rag after a full day's wash, I was again able to laugh like a human being with feelings. Knowing full well that I would get no scolding from anyone in particular. I was free to do as I please but I did not possess the powers, not yet anyway.

I had sisters in this life. They were not very pretty but they were still my siblings. If one would wager to guess that my life would parallel _Cinderella_ then I would agree with them. Except that, I had no wicked step mother. I did however have a wicked step father. Can you guess what I look like now? Without the leather and the guns? I wore the long golden braids of a shepherd girl and the pouty lips of a movie screen actress. Except I used no lipstick, but the prick of my finger to produce blood and smear it on my lips. It was something I liked to do. I don't know why and I can't explain it. Was it the look of blood that fascinated me or the way it smelled and tasted? Like bitter iron and metal?

It may surprise you that in this life, I am an orphan at the age of six. Similar to _Oliver twist_ I suppose but he was a rather rag tag muffin in my eyes. Do I appear to you as a well read former demon? Maybe not so well read as I am today. In my long pale gown, stained with fresh grass and those little stickies that I like to blow on. What are they called? No matter.

I lay my long golden hair on the grassy slope. They call them glens around here and sometimes I find myself staring at the sky, mesmerizing a day of bliss like this forever and the former life I had, demonic and fast, quick and sexy and all the demon boys would pant and stare. For now, only the sheep and the cattle were my only solace. They grazed peacefully as if nothing in the world would harm them. Rest assured they wouldn't be. I'm just a shepherd girl with an evil step father and harassed by two ugly step sisters. But their harassments weren't as nasty as _Cinderella_s. They were actually harassing me by way of being my constant followers. Annoying son of ....a bitch. I smirked and laughed out loud at my little clever description.

Before his death, my father's that is, father had been a terrible drunk. He was a wonderful father, mind you, always calling me sweetheart and touching my golden curls, setting me on his lap like Santa Claus and giving me gifts aplenty. But he was an irresponsible lout to the tee. Women were always after him. If the devil were my father, this devil was the handsomest, even when he was whiskey drowned and passed out.

So that's why I'm here. With my evil step father. You see, my father was bisexual. He loved women but he always indulged in the pleasures of his same sex. My evil step father was in love with him and he had a wonderful wife who died from being too kind, yet she was as rich as any sultan.

Where did that put my two lovely twins, the devil hunters, Virgil and Dante? Why I'll tell you where. They were looking for me. They made some deal with the devil (again) and turned the time tables around, flew around the universe in their anti gravity, phallic space ship and looked for me. So I'm lying. They're not space adventurers. But they wanted me back. So here's the former love story that I'll indulge to tell you. I'll let you decide who Dante is and who Virgil is. Enjoy my pretties.

**CHAPTER ONE: A WARM JUNE DAY:**

And so it had been on this warm june day that we returned home from the apple orchard. The girls and I were picking up apples for our _father, _and me like a good little girl had managed to capture a bundle in my skirt. Our hearts full of goodwill and our baskets brimming with green and red apple, little knowing that today something magnificent would happen to interrupt this little blissful life of mine, forever changing my present peaceful serenity.

Once through the apple orchard you can look across the now tangled jungle of a garden that my evil step father's former loving wife gardened and lavished. Such care and love she had that I often wondered what it would have been liked if she still lived. The tireless but annoying girls, Patsy and Pran, raced up the weedy path to the large cottage we owned. We didn't live there really. We actually lived in that great big mansion on the top of the hill but we liked to pretend that we're just simple girls. It was my idea anyway. The girls just followed my lead, for they were very readily idiots.

I decided to make haste to the front yard to insure that no damage was done to the sheep and chickens that clucked and baa baa-ed. Because there in the driveway of our humble large cottage, was the most magnificient Limousine I've ever seen! Shiny Ivory white, glittering like some kind of heavenly carriage come to whisk us away to the Lord's eternal grace, among the clouds of stars and suns....dear me.

Up until then, I had only the jaguar and the porsche that evil step daddy loaned me from time to time. So why was he so evil if he gave me the keys to the porsche and jag? Do you think he abused me or the other ding dongs I call my sisters? Do you think he made sexual advances towards me? Or tried in any possible way to make my life a living hell by letting sleep in the kitchen cupboard? No. and No and No. He was a corporate evil, business man so therefore, I called him the evil step dad. He knew what he was doing to the people of his company, which he didn't own in the first place because former sweet loving ex dead wife did. The rest just passed on to him. This evil Step daddy didn't know the first thing to doing business but I shant bore you with the details. Did you reall think that I'd tell you all about the corporate world while I walk around barefoot, with long golden braids on either side of me? Pouty red lips and all?

Let me describe the rest of the story and the Limousine. Or rather the contents of the automobile. Two men stepped out, chauffers I suppose they were with great bodies, dark sunglasses that you could buy for a mere 200 dollars and my sisters were giving that look where flies could fly into their mouths.

"Blimey!" Pran cried out. She was the worst one of us all. With two liposuctions and a nose surgery, she still remained ugly. Her dyed blond hair needed a new installment but she fussed and muttered that that pretty spanish singer called _Shakira _had the new fashion where you can have your dark roots be seen. "Who'd daddy call up this time?"

Not being one to call a pigeon a peacock, I must admit to myself that I too gaped like a monkey. Though not as similar to Patsy who scratched at her belly and ass. She wore less clothes as usual because she had the body to go with it, just not the face.

Was this I wondered, the modern day Cinderella coach? I still gaped because a young man, finely dressed, stood not two feet from me, "Goddamnit and all to hell! She looks good in this life too!" he was cursing in a very ungentlemanly way, and gaping like he was in a strip club. "Will you look at that! Trish has turned into a milkmaid and lusty shepherd girl and looking deliciously fine at it."

Would I have been surprised that the man in question was indeed strikingly similar to the man across him, who stepped out of the shadows? His half smile and sparkling pale eyes staring into mine? Startled, I looked around me for the beautiful and lusty shepherd girl and gasped innocently, and I was an innocent here in this lifetime, one must remember that! Former devil girl with leather skins and all was not in the story here. I recognized his features from a distant past, the man who said those words and he held me, pulling me close against his chest. I had not had any social intercourse with these men before. Although I felt completely compelled to hold him back. He was very handsome! I had the good virginal grace to kick him in the shins.

"OW!"

Before I had time to collect my scattered wits, the man across us, folded his arms and chuckled. I found myself mesmerized at his features, darkly swarthy against white, platinum hair and there was the most beautiful pair of lips I've ever seen. If I had taken note of the man to whom I had kicked, he had the self same pair of lips.

It was my two ugly duckling sisters who intervened, "You guys shouldn't do that to her! She's our sister!" But as they said that in my defense they were giggling and blushing at the same time. I rolled my eyes and pretended to look away.

"Are you called Trish here?" the man spoke and his dulcet voice sent my knees to butter. What was the matter with me? Is there something I should know about him that I didnt see before when all handsome came calling?

"No." I choked out. "It's Beatrice."

"Same thing." he mused and approached me slowly. The other man was soothing his bruised knee and cursed something about his powers not being able to strong enough in this world. I wondered at the strangeness of their appearance.

"No it's not the same thing. I've never been called Trish. And wouldnt that be more for Patricia?"

"Not necessarily."

If this so called modern modern carriage was Cinderella's coach, I wouldn't want these two men to be turned back into the mice and horse! There was movement behind of one of dark glassy windows and then it was all the way down to reveal a very pretty lady. The feminine occupant could easily have passed for Cinderella herself. And there was a violent reaction inside of me. A feeling I usually scoffed. Jealousy.

Her smart looks, coiffed blond hair cascaded onto a slender creamy neck which shone with jewels. Her blouse! The neckline was so low that it be better if she took off her blouse altogether.

"Your paramour?" I ventured. I didn't have time to stop myself from saying it out loud. But this violent emotion just took over me. The other man chuckled, and replied, "I see she's got a bit of a spunk even in this life."

Patsy and Pran chorused, "Are you two our daddies friends? Or business partners or something? We can go tell him you're here."

The man whom my eyes were glued to, made a dismissing hand movement towards them. "No need. We're going up to meet him soon. It concerns your sister here."

"Ohhhh you're in trouble, Beatrice!" they giggled, almost delightfully. I glared at them and they shutted up.

"Do you not recognize us, Beatrice?"

"No." I mouthed out. My eyes going back and forth from the beauty inside and the two gorgeous silver haired men.

The one in blue, piped up, "Hah! You should. You, my darling have spent an eternity with me."

"What?" Are these two mad?

"Take it easy, Virgil. She's so much into this life that she doesn't remember the one she had. Must be a psychological thing."

"Yes, dear," the lady inside replied, taking out her lipstick and applying it. She stared at herself in the small compact mirror and then looked back at me. Her teeth white with smears of the lipstick she just put on.

She continued, "These things will take awhile. In the meantime we intend to stay around here. To get you back your memory." Stepping out of the long lean white car, her high heels clicked on the gravel ground, "My name is Eva by the way." She extended her long lean arms and offered her gloved hand.


	2. Dante & Beatrice

**_DANTE'S INITIATION_**

Eva.

Yea, you know it. The lady who everyone epitomized like the _Virgin Mary_. Dante and Virgil's mother, beautiful, elegant and sacrificial. Every boys fantasy of a mother. A woman strong enough to take on the most powerful demon turned good, Sparda. Now that demon is one that I've never gotten the pleasure to meet. But here she was, in the flesh and probably due to the turning back of time, in which these two brilliant wanna-be Newtonian silver haired boys were doing, managed to bring back Eva.

For the sake of me? Probably. But I'm sure part of the agenda was to see her again. Too bad she was a bit different when she entered my world.

Now remember, at this point, I haven't figured out anything. They were rambling on about how they were going to bring back my memory. I happen to have a memory! If they're talking about reincarnation well, those kinds of things turn me off. If you've ever been privy to the stories of past lives and such, many would normally claim they were _Cleopatra of Egypt_ or the _Queen of Sheeba._ Thankfully, I'm not so daft as to squeal and delight myself in those ridiculous fantasies. Queen of Sheeba sounded like a bitch anyway, torturing men and what did Cleo do? If ever there was a woman who bedded for the sake of power, you got it. I should have been so unlucky.

I blurted out suddenly, "I don't believe in reincarnation!"

They all looked at in unison. The lovely, elegant blonde between them, possessing all the surprise in the world and with the swish of her light hair, nodded.

"I don't either, my dear." As if that confirmation was a way to bridge a communal friendship.

The man in the red suit had longish hair that didn't quite compare to his obvious twin. While the one in blue, brash, bold and possessing a bit of cold cruelty on his lips, had his silver hair slicked back. As if he spent hours looking into the mirror with his Loreal' products. They might as well be models for all I know. Maybe evil step daddy had a deal with the modeling agencies and hired these two in one of his advertising companies?

But looking at him now, he could have poised for a Greek god in a _Botticelli_ painting, while the sun shafted off his white silver hair, which fell in almost shining curls to brush his broad shoulders. His features were set in an expression of sardonic expression. Very much like the _Wuthering Heights_ dark hero, _Heathcliff_. But something tells me that he's no Heathcliff come to make Cathy suffer. And even in this instance, I was no Cathy. It was his clear blue eyes that swept briefly over us and though it could be the coldest, it was the warmest. The other one, he had cold eyes, like white fire in the middle of winter. Even their names, I think the one called Virgil was very Greek. And I think it means _Staff-bearer_ or the one who suffers. Methinks I'd like to see how he bears his staff.

It was my evil step daddy that finally intervened. He was gracious and sputtering all kinds of nonsense and it is usually his way really. He was like that when he knew that rich people came a calling. He was certainly a man who treated his equals or those above him with more respect than his daughters. His servants were treated no more than dogs really. And the dogs lived in their own big dog house and yard. He was taking note of the way the Eva lady looked, but his eyes scanned over the twins. Who could not?

"I see you've met my daughters." He gushed falsely. The dolts, Patsy and Pran curtsied and giggled. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. "They like to pretend that they're shepherd girls. Don't mind them. It's all Beatrice's little idea. Would you all like to come into the mansion? I do offer my hospitality."

"That would be fine." The one called Virgil, the suffering replied, then added, "I can tell you have a fine selection of whiskeys and wine?"

"Oh the best!" evil step daddy gushed out. It was making me sick to my stomach. If I could get away, I'd rush out to the fields and hide myself in the corner of the highest glen. Shall I tell you all how I old I am at this point?

17. That's right. And still a virgin too. If I had known about all those sexual romps I had made with both the twins in my former life I would be horrified. Already, blushes and jealousy aside, there's still that part of me that feels like a true virgin. Never been touched. Do you think this story is about losing my virginity? Sorry to disappoint you all. No. It's about losing something else though.

Dinner that evening was an interesting affair. With Eva acting as the hostess of the manor. Virgil was becoming annoyed with my two sisters. I heard him lean over to the other one, "Can we make them disappear?" His obvious twin made a half smile, his light blue eyes met mine and I looked away immediately. I didnt want them to think I was so bloody interested in them. My evil step daddy offered them to stay over and while he was delighted to have such beautiful company, the lady laughed, saying out loud, "Why not make it a fortnight?"

The affair was settled. A fortnight to get them to jog my memory back in place. And for what purpose? You'll see.

Later that night, in my bedroom I threw my dolls and my stupid party dresses. I was about to toss out my make up toiletries when my tears overwhelmed me. "Fuck him!" I cried. My anger was towards my evil step dad. Why? Because he's such an ass. He tells everyone that I like to play shepherd girl and I make his girls follow me. I could just die. He didnt have to humiliate me like that. Calming down, I picked up my mirror and stared at the girl there. She was pretty enough I suppose. Undoing my braids, letting my shining long bright hair fall, there were crinkles in them that were caused by the braids. Brushing them made me calm down and as I sat down at my vanity table, he was behind me. That guy. The one that haunted my thoughts.

"Do you want to know my name?"

I should have been startled but really, but wasn't. I continued to brush my hair. "Not really."

"You're thinking....what's in a name? Right?"

"No."

"You're a tough one in this life, Trish." he mused with silent deliberateness.

"And you're here to what? My daddy doesn't even know about your stupid quest about jarring my memory!"

"You mean your_ evil_ step daddy?"

Gasping, "You can read my mind too!?"

"A little." he confessed.

"That's violation!" I stood up. "Get out of my room!"

"We need you to come back to us, Trish. Normally I wouldn't bother because you seem so happy here. But we need you."

His voice pleaded and although my advancing steps took me close to his, the scent of him, sweet whiskey and honey, leather and all those nice things you smell from a man were all there.

"I'm a virgin." I blurted out.

He laughed. "So? Is there a reason why you tell me this?" Leisurely letting his body lay over my bed, he crossed his legs, his leather boots half off the edge. Mesmerized, I noted the contrast of his roughness to the soft pale satin sheets.

"I'm afraid." I confessed myself. Then with more courage, "If this other life you mentioned is about me and you, I dont want to know. I find myself very attached to this one and..." I paused. "I don't know you." biting my lips until the blood broke through, unable to complete my thought.

His voice was soft, "We could remedy that, couldn't we?" His lips were very close to mine. "Are you afraid? There was a time when you could never be afraid. All that can come true you know. Beauty is a dangerous gift for a girl like you, an innocent, but today is your lucky day."

"I thought so..." I said after a moment. Guys like you, well, they like to deflower _virgins,_ don't they?"

You should have seen his face, really, it was in shock and he threw his head back, the sound of his masculine laugh giving me those goosebumps that I get when I've come out of a nice bath.

"That's right. You're a virgin here aren't you?" he mused, looking me up and down, "Not to worry, sweets, I won't_ deflower_ you as you so lightly put it. My interest is purely business."

For a moment I was disappointed. What did I expect? Some kind of forced entry with my willing consent? Oh man, desperate in the case of a prudent girl such as myself, blessed with some fair looks but not without admirers of her own. So why did these men, including the one with the dark brooding looks, yet loud and unassuming strike me as some kind of distant reminder?

"Do you think you can trust me, Trish?"

"Stop calling me that. I"m not Trish! I'm Beatrice." I demanded. Not wanting to be associated with a name that sounded like a tramp. I was dignified, but he didn't answer my heated response and took hold of my hand and with his other hand, covered mine eyes.

"Shhhh. It won't hurt..."

Those were the last words I heard until the feelings of being spiralled back into another dimension seem to overtake me.

Soon we emerged in this landscape in which the wind blew at 50 mph, curling my blond tresses into a rag tag mess. I began to see in front of me, front face and center and my guide, dressed in his impeccable red, bright crimson against the bluest skies ever. There, a stone that looked like one of the Easter Islands monuments, standing lone and forbidding beckoned me to search it's engraving. The words, which were in Greek:

"_**Time is a child--playing like a child--playing a board game--the kingdom of the child. This is Telesphoros, who roams through the dark regions of the cosmos and glows like a star out of the depths. He points the way to the gates of the sun and to the land of dreams."**_

"What do you think? Ring a bell, my sweet?" He came up behind me, set my blond hairs aside so that he could place a light kiss on my neck. I let my head loll over and he continued his light kisses, trailing down the now tingled arms to the tips of my fingers.

"They're some kind of riddle. I recall from some kind of alchemy passage. Is that it? Are you my guardian angel who has come to me in my dreams and taken me to this place?"

He gave a sigh and ran a hand through his silver hair. "Not really. Come. Let's go back."

And that was the end of that. What did I do? He was clearly disappointed. Did he think that reading a few words written across a huge stone would set my memory ajar? Not for this Cinderella. When a girl like me who has never known how to live like a human would ever want to go back to the life I had before? Never. So determined was I in my own world that I fear his kind would never take me back.


	3. Virgil & Beatrice

_**VIRGIL'S TEMPTATION:**_

I don't even remember if he offered his name. The one named Dante.

Would you like to know the origins of his name? And no, not the one where he goes to hell and Virgil is his guide. That's an old familiar story and those who have not the good grace to know it, I pity them.

Dante. The name on the tip of my lips suggest old parchments that I've kissed and beheld in my arms, a library full of outdated hard backs, filled with silverfish that I detested. The pages torn and strewn but alas, my readers, his name lies there among the darkened pages:

**_Dante: Derived from the Latin Durans meaning "endure, persevere," and therefore "firm, resolute_." **

The most resolute demon man in the world so I must say, the one I had loved the most and dearest to my heart. His perseverance only mirrors his own life. So why would I not remember him even if I wanted? You'll see.

He left me alone without a kiss. It was the other one that I was afraid of. The one I knew named Virgil the suffering one.

_Enter: Virgil the sufferer._

I awoke with a heavy heart and each day that passes, I curse the three who has managed to bring something into my sphere of protection. My flesh and blood of being a human. Cannot these demons let me go? Will I be forever haunted by the memory of his lips upon mine, taking, taking always taking? And me, as good as I appear to be now, I was so very very bad then. Why would anyone in their right mind want me to be a part of that life? In my dreams, that stone figure of a statue stood before me again and Dante was absent from my mind. Only the face gave me a look of terror, the one that I saw in the faces of fearful men and women who came my way. Did Dante give up? It t'would seem so wouldn't it when Virgil came to visit me in my sleep every night. Every dark evening when not a peep of the moon showed or glimpsed. During that entire fortnight.

In his attempt to woo me out of my slumber, like some snow white in her chaste bubble, this particular dark prince with the halo of silver hair decides to make use of his talents. No, not that! His talents in combat were one of them but in my case; combat in the mind is what he's after. Virgil the sufferer, Virgil the staff bearer as you know by now. The bad son of Eva and the notorious yet famous Sparda. Do you think that both sons could turn out good or turn out evil? What makes them so deliciously fascinating in the terms of difference and good looks?

In a fable not too long ago, Sparda said these words to his son, and it echoed in the same similar vein as the one who had published it with good intention:

**_My son, listen to my teaching, which is good and useful, and end the sleep which weighs heavily upon you. Depart from the forgetfulness which fills you with darkness, since if you were unable to do anything, I would not have said these things to you_**.

Does not anyone remember it? It was a passage by our Lord, the one up in the sky, beyond the clouds, beyond the human boundaries, the very one that creeps into our homes and our prayers. So Sparda, by repeating these words to his prodigal son says again, but in kindness,

_**Why do you pursue the darkness when the light is at your disposal? Why do you drink stale water, though sweet wine is available for you? Wisdom summons you, yet you desire folly. Not by your own desire do you do these things, but it is the animal nature within you that does them. **_

So why does young Virgil pursue the dark and the shadows that haunt mankind? Only he is able to know and that my dear friends and readers will he be able to tell you on his own. His attempt at tempting me out of my reverie and present state was what his goal is and by doing so, attempt to tantalize me with the darkness of his kind. Of his chosen path.

"Beatrice, wake up."

Simple as that. No kisses, no softness in the tone of his voice. Just to wake my little self up. He certainly was no prince charming. But what a sight to see when dost my eyes wiped away the sleep. His mouth went dry when mine own set upon his. He looked into my face and saw my slight smile. Although I lay there immobile, his look was hungry and near feral, like a predator come to take me away to his den and eat me up. Virgil the sufferer had that look on him. The kind that sweet natured girls like me should be afraid of but are drawn to like a moth to a flame. Bad boys will out!

Clouds of dark mist formed around us and I lay there in my glass darkened bubble and everywhere I touched, the flowers would dwindle and fall to the ground and gasping at this horrible sight, tears ran down my eyes. What manner of place was this that I had to be so tortured by darkness? Not realizing that the tears flowed down my cheek, Virgil in his moment of unnatural emotion, without the baldness of being so bawdy, began his tender caress. He held me there, and I dropped his fingers and placed both of my hands on his shoulders. Instinctively his arms lifted as he fell in place upon that crystal bed. His hands encompassed my slender waist and while feeling the flare of my hips, the tight muscles of my abdomen, he brought me forward.

I can surely say that this timing was perfect. Being vulnerable in my subconsciousness was something that Virgil did often attack. Virgil depicted animal nature and all the things our very nature should fall away from but in his desire, raw and willful, it is no wonder that mere humans could fall from their grace. But there was something that I feel with Virgil that I never could feel with Dante.

_He was my equal._

"Why do you haunt me in my dreams, Virgil. If this is another of your ruse to take me back to you then I shall have none of it. You're no part of me anymore, you or your brother! So you can both go to hell!"

My words meant to be biting, were not, how can it be? When my eyes crystallized with fresh tears and he held me like a man in love and condemned? Taking my hair away from eyes, he candidly remarked,

"Do you want me to treat you like a _Cinderella_?" chuckling, then a lowered whisper that I could barely hear him, "Because I can be your Prince."

"You're no prince, my ass!" laughing, "You mean, a dark _dark_ prince."

"Am I dark to you?" he mused aloud, sending whisper like touches on my face, tracing lines that held me mesmerized. He was the most fascinating man ever to cross my path of darkness.

So I in turn became clever with my tongue. "Not so dark in the visage of your physical masculinity but in your soul, the blackest prince of the night." Then added, "I think you rival the _morning star."_

"I've heard better." He teased. "Did you know they had this in the declaration of independence of 1776---**_A Prince, whose Character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the Ruler of a free people?_**

"Well, excuse me!" my full lips curved partway. "What sort of fancy talk has people been telling you?"

"People? I don't talk to people."

"Therefore you are a tyrant!"

Then he stood up and took my hand. "Come, the night is fast fading and I must show you the way to your destiny."

"My destiny?"

He said nothing as he stepped on the darkened flowers and brown crisp leaves that covered our path.

The mention of destiny made me cringe. What was that word again anyway. It scared me. "Do you believe in Destiny, Virgil?"

"What nonsense, my lovely girl, of course."

"I would think that you're not the type to believe in destiny. But rather free will."

"Free will? You've been reading too many of the pages of that confounded black book."

"Black book? You mean the one where we put phone numbers of our dates? And possible future dates?" I teased. And I took the same steps as him not noticing that the world was whirling in a machine like atmosphere. The noise was deafening but the buildings stood as if a testament to it's time. Dark ominous clouds, the ones you see in movies like _The day after tomorrow _make you think that this is the end of the world. It's not. It's never the end of the world. Only the end of our existence. The world itself continues to breathe and live even when we are gone to kiss our wounds goodbye.

The jagged contours of the building, with it's pillared high funnels that emitted strong gaseous fumes stroked out like a fireplace full of dry hearty logs. At the entrance, I planted my feet and caught Virgil's arm, strong and masculine, he was built like a machine himself wasn't he? But his blood, flowed with rich blood, dark ionic and sweet. I remembered it so well. That I nearly gasped aloud and withdrew my hands as if burned.

There at the entrance to the strange sight of the architectural winged like building, fuming like a factory that would make the most jaded non environmentalist cringe. There were symbols stamped in the gates of the iron fence that barred their path to the building.

"They burn the bower afterwards, along with the symbols," his voice was raw, bereft of all pretense. "Isn't technology breathtaking?"

_Afterward_s.

"I don't believe in destiny or symbols, or reincarnation, Virgil."

"But you believe in free will? And your dreams." He rasped out.

"Yes." I replied with some hesitancy. "I do."

"Ah, wayward girl, I'll remind you of your past and your future."

With that, he shut my eyes from the world with the quick movement of his hands, he didn't even tell me it would not hurt because it did. He showed me something that I did not want to see.

_**What else is evil darkness except familiarity with forgetfulness?**_

I drowned into the ocean, black and blue, all darkness and wet and cold, like the raging of the sea that pours in my soul. My thoughts clung to me and I remembered something....

**_Beware, lest somehow you fall into the hands of sinners_**.

But I felt like a Cinderella, as the carriage awaited from the other side of the water, a dry land, sandy beaches and electric sky. My dreams if ever, were merged in nightmares and Virgil stood there in his azure blue, bright pale cheeks with the glint of silver tress escaping from the combed back coiffure he wore on his head. Unlike Dante, the resolute one, Virgil was impeccable.

Emerging from the sea, wet and pained, my legs felt like pin needles and I'm reminded again of the passages of _Little Mermaid _where she had lost her only prince to another. And all her desires were for naught. She was not to be with someone like him or of any breed but her own.

Was she suppose to commit her life for the former so that in the words of Ariel in her desperation and desire, she gets her wishes granted? But whose wishes? Certainly not hers. If so, why does it so pain these two demonic men to bring me back....and the words swirl back to the words in which the mermaid had given her life for the desire to walk, to be_ human._

_**Yes, I will," said the little demoness in a trembling voice, as she thought of the dark prince and the mortal soul. **_

_**"But think again," said the seer; "for when once your psyche and presence, your soul has become like a human being, you can no more be a demon, your powers will be gone. You will never return through the water of forgetfulness to your kind, or to your father's palace again; and if you do not win the love of the dark prince, so that he is willing to forget his father and mother for your sake, and to love you with his whole soul, and allow the mortals to join your hands that you may be man and wife, then you will never have an mortal soul. The first dusk after he marries another your heart will break, and you will become like the devils mistress once again, on the sea of Hades." **_

_**"I will do it," said the little demoness, and she became pale as death. **_

NO! I will not do it! I cried inside.

I will never forget. Then I cried on that beach, and Virgil in his princely garb walked slowly to me. He seemed to be struggling with himself before he uttered these words....

"Come my Cinderella. Your carriage awaits."

But it was not Virgil that I saw, it was his mother, Eva who had appeared before me, like some fairy god mother. It was a mirage that blended the two. I preferred the comely man.

"But I must be paid also," said the woman,

"With my soul?" I cried aloud, listening to my echoes and wishing that Virgil had not left me to his mother.

But I didn't hear her last words because if I did, I would have heard that my soul was already given. I didn't own one.

The ballroom appeared after I was led into the large silver pumpkin, glimmering against the sandy floor. Even in my wet attire, dripping wet, my hair was filled with seaweed and wet strings of leafs that glittered even in the darkness of the carriage. I thought that I would shiver but there was only warmth.

I looked outside the carriage, peeping out the pumpkin that flew me into the castle outside the sands, away from the beach that nearly drowned me.

Inside the castle, there were people that danced, and they reminded me of the ghosts that kept on dancing, forever cursed in their timeless world. They faded in and out like flickering lights, fluorescent blue and sometimes, if the light catches them in an odd way, it would turn a black purplish hue.

I saw my two clods of sisters, the ones who were human and my own shock overtook me. What the hell is going on? They were dressed in fancy style, and they snickered and pointed at me. I looked down and saw to my horror that I still wore the wet gown that clung to my shape, revealing for all to see.

"What the devil are you two doing in my dream" I nearly shouted out. Avoiding the stares of the dancers that twirled around me.

"We don't know." They both shrugged. "But we had to come. That white haired gorgeous guy said we had to come and see you in your little gown and dance the night away."

"No one is dancing in my dream and certainly not me!" Now if I could only wake myself up and pinch myself but Virgil cut me off. He was there beside us, taking me away from the girls and guided me to the middle of the dance floor, taking up the number as if it were easy, set me on my feet as if they possessed wings.

"Do you like what I've set up for you?"

"No." I rasped. "What game are you playing?"

"A very dangerous game, Beatrice." then laughed, showing his wide grin, white even teeth, "The only game I like to play."

I was waiting for something, something else that would wake me from this nightmare. If I couldn't pinch myself to wake then surely.....

There was beeping noise; it collided with those that chimed at the top tower. It sounded like wedding bells and its noise was so sweet to me, like _Wedding March_ concerto. And I cried myself to wakefulness, leaving behind not my shoes but my psyche behind.

My consciousness was ebbing away and then when I thought things could not have gotten worse, the powers came slowly.

And I had destroyed the clock next to my bed with the flick of my fingers. Without moving an inch. This is how much power I could possess by thinking and destroying. The yellow glowing electric feel of me began to shiver around me, and the tears that I cried stopped. But my howls of inhuman sounds came from the depths of my lonely empty soul that I don't even own.

"But if you take away my soul," said the little demon girl, "what is left for me?"

_**"Your beautiful form, your graceful walk, and your expressive eyes; surely with these you can enchain a man's heart. Well, have you lost your courage?"**_

You will have your powers. Is that not what you want, dearest little demon girl of Mundus's creation?

It was Virgil. He kissed me in the same manner where Dante had left off, trailing light touches on my neck and reaching behind my ear.

His twin acts in the same manner and the likeness is so striking I could hardly breathe.

"Virgil. I hate you." My words seem empty as I allowed him to set me back upon the bed. Away was the glass bubble and Snow Whites Prince charming.

"That's my girl." Glittering with his Sparda inherited looks, he added,

"Because your hate is what is bringing you back to me."


End file.
